Of Black Ties and Ex-Wives
by Elven Ink
Summary: **COMPLETE** Rhys manages to get into a high-flying, black tie event at Hyperion. Honestly, he was pretty impressed with himself for that. But getting the chance to be a hero for Handsome Jack? That was the stuff of dreams for him. One-shot response to the prompt: "First Kiss".


_**AN: Cross-posting from my Tumblr. **  
_

* * *

Rhys had never seen so many egos in a single room at once. And that was saying something considering he was a middle manager at Hyperion, specialists in super-accurate weaponry, cutting-edge laser technology, and hyper-inflated egos.

His, of course, was one such ego. In Rhys' mind, he believed that he was _meant _to be among these people. That he was destined for the elite, and this opportunity (which, truth be told, had only landed on his desk after a stroke of luck and/or a lunch switcheroo meant the two senior managers above him were currently at home nursing a bad case of food poisoning), was one he had earned. It was one he deserved. It was the foot in the door he needed.

"Holy crap, Rhys, that's Wainwright Jakobs!" Rhys was nudged out of his reverie by Vaughn's sharp elbow to the side, and he looked across the room to where his friend was excitedly pointing. "Oh oh, and there! _That's _Anton Smith. President of Torgue...guessing Mr Torgue wasn't invited. Probably for good reason."

Rhys' eyes scanned the room, and though he entertained the idea of _scanning _properly with his ECHO eye, the idea of setting off some kind of hidden device from a rival corporation kept him in line. This whole lavish affair had been hosted by Hyperion under the facade of celebrating inter-company relationships and "competitive spirit". In truth, it was all a show to see who would crack first. Rhys had no doubt in his mind every company here had an operative working silently and tirelessly to peel away corporate secrets from one another. This, along with some of the high-flying names in the room, kept Rhys and Vaughn firmly attached to their stools by the bar.

"Just...keep your head down a bit. And stop pointing!" Rhys hissed, pushing Vaughn's hand down. "You're not even meant to be here, remember?"

"Y-yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I guess it's just kinda...overwhelming," Vaughn admitted, turning in his seat to lean against the bar and put his back to the black-tie event whirling across the floor behind them. "Anyway, I thought I was your plus-one?"

"My invite didn't have a plus-one, strictly speaking. Besides, what kind of plus-one has to climb in through a wi—_oh m'ga__**aaa!**_" Something caught Rhys' eye as he idly looked around the room, and it immediately slackened his jaw and turned his words into utter dribble. His friend craned to follow Rhys' line of sight, and he could see Vaughn's jaw drop too as he spotted _him_.

"Oh. Oh no."

"Oh my _god_. Vaughn. Vaughn it's...it's _him_."

"Okay, Rhys, first of all, suck up the drool-string. Not a good look."

"Vaughn, Vaughn, _Vaughn, it's," — _Rhys spun around on his chair to face Vaughn so swiftly he nearly fell off his seat — "it's _Handsome Jack!_"

"Yeah! And he's gonna know I'm not on the guest list!" Vaughn panicked, holding a hand up to shield his face and turned back to his drink. "Oh shit shit shit!"

"Relax. He probably doesn't even know the names of half the schmucks _on _the guest list," Rhys said, half-proudly until he realised he was one such low-down schmuck "Oh...oh now I'm sad..."

Still, it was an easy enough job to cheer himself up. He turned again to watch across the room as Handsome Jack made little to no effort to hide his boredom for the people around him. On more than one occasion, Rhys saw the man roll his eyes, yawn loudly, and walk off while someone was in mid-sentence. How a man could make such a brazen act of rudeness look so suave, Rhys may never know. It was probably the tux. Rhys was pretty sure he'd never seen Handsome Jack in a tux before. He would have been less awe-struck seeing a unicorn.

"This is the longest I've ever been in the same room as him!" Rhys whisper-squeaked to Vaughn.

"You don't count being in the air ducts above his office as being in the same room?"

"_I have never done that! _That was a rumour."

"Ah-huh..."

As Vaughn trailed off to return to nursing his drink and trying to hide from anyone who might realise he wasn't meant to be there, Rhys allowed himself to go glossy-eyed for a moment and play out a number of dream scenarios in his head. Scenarios where Jack would walk over, offer to buy him a drink, complain about these _dull people _and compliment _Rhys _on being _so interesting_ and _finally getting intelligent conversation_.

Grand daydreams of himself being bold, smooth, high-ranking, making a group of people laugh with his stories of victory, enough to make Handsome Jack wander over to listen in too and maybe give him a high-five and —

Rhys jumped as he was snapped out of his daydreams by a palm pressing against his lower back. He looked across in time to see a man stepping between himself and Vaughn, with one hand on Rhys' back. With his free hand, the man grabbed Vaughn by the back of his shirt and _threw _him over the bar to land with a yelp next to the startled barman on the other side.

"Hey, what—?" Rhys started, brow furrowing as he turned to look behind him to see this apparent asshole who had just chucked his best friend over the freaking furniture.

"_Heeeey_, look at you, wow, is this seat taken? No? Cool, talk to me," the man spoke in one fluid utterance, pushing Rhys gently so he wasn't looking over his shoulder any more, but to the side where the newcomer sat himself down in Vaughn's now-empty chair. The man appeared distracted, talking to Rhys but looking out across the floor.

Rhys opened his mouth to give this guy a piece of his mind.

Then, the guy turned to look at Rhys properly. One green and one blue eye locked with his gaze and once again, every word in Rhys' throat promptly strangled itself.

"Eehh!" Rhys managed to squeak out.

_Handsome Jack. Handsome Jack. Sitting. Next to me. Hand. Back? Jack. There. My knee is next to his knee. Oh my god. Jack. Right there. _

"Hey, c'mon, don't make me wrong, pumpkin! Hate being wrong! Came over here 'cause you looked like you knew how to tie your shoelaces at least, which is more than most of these morons here," Jack scowled, nodding out across the floor. "Talk. Quick. Conversation. I'm totally engrossed. That's the look we're going for, put her off coming over here."

"...Her?" Rhys managed to bleat out.

"Yeah yeah, my ex-wife. She's here, didn't know, and she's been making her way across the room for the last half an hour. She's waiting for me to get out of a conversation, but she was always stuck up on manners. She won't interrupt if I'm in a conversation, and that's where you're gonna be my hero. Wanna be my hero?"

Rhys nodded, though the only thought in his head was _do not make drool-string. DO NOT MAKE DROOL-STRING. _

Handsome Jack looked slightly concerned for his own safety, having apparently sat himself down next to a complete weirdo, before snapping his fingers at the bar. "Hey! Barman! Why don't I have a glass in front of me?"

Vaughn managed to drag himself up from where he had clattered to the floor on the other side of the bar. Readjusting his glasses, he gave Rhys a single frown before turning his attention to Jack.

"I er...I-I'm not _actually _a barman, s-s-so erm...Mr...Handsome Jack sir, I..."

Jack raised an eyebrow, leaning into the bar with one arm.

"You work for me?"

"Y-yes, sir! A-a-accountancy depar — "

"You work for me. You're standing behind a bar. Unless you want demoting from accountancy to _full-time barman_ on some shithole bar on Pandora, _you'll put a glass of something good in front of me and my friend here_."

The colour drained from Vaughn's face and he might have squeaked out a "yes sir!" before darting off. Jack let his head drop forward into the palm of his hand.

"Idiot didn't even ask me what I drink...can you believe this guy? And he counts my fricking numbers?" He turned to Rhys.

Rhys was acutely aware that he was breathing manually, having to focus on not dribbling out of his slack jaw, and had completely forgotten his own name.

_Get it together. GET IT TOGETHER. He's right there and you are acting like a WEIRD MANNEQUIN._

"Haha! Erm...y-yeah, that's accountants for ya! All numbers...nothing else. G-g-gotta give 'em their orders in numbers too! L-like...calculators with legs!" Rhys managed to chuckle out, his throat feeling very dry. God, where was Vaughn with that drink? He'd apologise to him later.

"Right? I mean, I should replace them with robots, really. Same thing, give 'em numbers and off they go. Actually...why don't I do that? We literally have the technology?" Jack mused to himself, glancing over his shoulder then back across the bar. "Like, I could replace _so _many people with robots. You know, the tech guys, they—"

As Jack went off on a rant about his employment structure, eyes still scanning the floor for incoming ex-wives, Rhys turned to Vaughn in a panic. Wide-eyed, the man mouthed over to his best friend, complete with charade-style hand-gestures:

**What do I do?! **

Vaughn, who had fallen into the role of barman rapidly and was now busying himself with cleaning a glass, paused to mouth back:

**I don't know! You're the fanboy! ****_You _****should know! **

Rhys rolled his eyes and mouthed:

**Not helpful!**

Vaughn threw his cloth down.

**Well! Think of something! **

"— urgh, god, she's still on her way..." Jack complained, shifting in his seat.

Rhys was worried this encounter with his idol was about to become short-lived, that Jack would dart off to put distance between him and his ex-wife again. The fear gave him some sort of pseudo-courage to build a conversation-wall between Jack and said ex-wife.

"S-so. Ex-wife? At a Hyperion black-tie event? Who's getting fired for that?" Rhys tried to smirk and sound smooth, but he was pretty sure the sweat beading on his forehead gave him away. Thankfully, Vaughn returned with two glasses and a bottle of _very _expensive whisky. Rhys all but inhaled his measure of the drink as soon as Vaughn pulled the bottle away from filling his glass.

"Blake. Probably. But I'll probably have to re-hire him again because strictly speaking, not his fault. I mean, probably got six exes in here?" Jack said, looking around the room then back to Rhys. "Which is easy enough, but an ex-_wife_? Oh man is it different if you put a ring on it. Like, ex-girlfriends, ex-boyfriends, I can just tell them to take a hike. Ex-_wives _or ex-_husbands_, they are a little more...complicated. She'll want to ask me questions and reminisce and _stuuuuff_ and I don't wanna. But, like I say, real stickler for manners. She won't interrupt. I hope," he added, casting a look over his shoulder. "But _god _she's flitting over here way too close..."

Jack downed his drink, inhaled, then fixed Rhys with a look that was all-business. "Alright cupcake, I know what she _definitely _won't interrupt. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you too. Stupid question — you wanna kiss me?"

Rhys inhaled.

_...Did he just...ask...if…? _

Rhys turned to Vaughn and nodded once. Vaughn nodded back, and refilled his glass with another measure of whisky. Rhys drank it down, set the glass down gently, and turned to face Jack.

"Yes," Rhys replied calmly. "Yes, I do."

With a last look over at his ex-wife, Jack scooted his seat a little closer to Rhys.

"Win-win, am I right?" He grinned, before leaning forward and tilting Rhys' chin up a little with one hand. The next thing Rhys knew, his entire scope for sensibility had melted out of his head as his hero, his idol, pressed his lips against his own. Somewhere off to Rhys' left he was sort of aware of a glass smashing, but it sounded weirdly far away.

Rhys' eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted ever so slightly — he could taste the earthy flavour of whisky and the cutting bite of alcohol still on Jack's lips, as well as an undernote of cigarette smoke. Just as it began to muddle his senses, Jack broke the kiss away. Rhys couldn't help looking a little heartbroken at that, but concentrated on trying to look cool and collected.

"Ha! Knew that'd keep her away! See, see? She's walked right off. Ahhhh, so predictable. Hey, thanks pumpkin, I owe ya one!" Jack beamed, clapping Rhys on the shoulder and pushing off his stool onto his feet. "Although, guess you got to kiss me so that's kind of a big deal. Yo, barman! Free drinks for this guy!" Jack called over to Vaughn, pointing down at Rhys. "Alright, gotta go be a host. You guys have fun now."

With that, Jack was gone with one last pat of Rhys' shoulder.

Rhys blinked. He looked down at his empty glass. He looked up at Vaughn.

"I just..."

"Yeah."

"We k..."

"Ah-huh."

"...I forgot to tell him my name," Rhys despaired, flopping down onto the bar and burying his head in his hands. Vaughn filled him another drink.

"I mean...he didn't ask either?"


End file.
